


It's Smile Time!

by chiasmus



Category: X-Men: First Class (2011) - Fandom
Genre: Crack, Felt, Fluff, M/M, Puppet!Erik, X-Men First Class Kink Meme
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-17
Updated: 2011-06-17
Packaged: 2017-10-22 18:19:09
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,936
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/241110
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chiasmus/pseuds/chiasmus
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Erik isn't the same after a chance encounter with a mutant he and Charles fail to recruit. Fill for <a href="http://1stclass-kink.livejournal.com/7761.html?thread=14513489#t14513489">this prompt</a>: <i>Recruitment trip. Mutant with the ability to do transmutation and a thirst for causing trouble. Puppet!Erik.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	It's Smile Time!

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the episode of _Angel_ of the same name. Contains a random original character for the transmutation to happen. To quote Gunn, Erik ends up with the "the proportionate excitability of a puppet [his] size".

There were, of course, going to be mutants found who did not want to have any part of their cause. It was disappointing whenever this happened, but Charles generally accepted it, probably because he could read the reasons off of them even if they didn't always say. Erik generally wasn't bothered by it either, unless it took a particularly long time to get a definite answer, or if the mutant in question had an ability that seemed it could be useful in the hunt against Shaw. Eugene – the child they left now – had provided both these criteria, there a modicum of genuine uncertainty, but also a layer of devious intrigue. Charles had mistakenly revealed his own powers, since in the time after that Eugene had started thinking about a scene from _Blue Hawaii_ and now Charles had “Rock-A-Hula Baby” stuck in his mind.

“Really, Erik, you could have been less insulting at the end,” Charles said once they were back in the car.

“The kid was full of bullshit,” Erik snapped, bringing the car to life with a sharp gesture. Charles wasn't trying to read Erik's mind, but he caught something that was the equivalent of _and he started it first_ , though not couched in those terms. “And wasted more than enough of our time.”

“He's content with the way his life is now.” Charles glanced over at Erik as they shot out of the car park. “Transmutation of other objects. Quite appropriate that he decided to be a stage illusionist.”

“Why couldn't you have just read that to begin with?” Erik asked, annoyed.

“Because there was some leeway. A chance he might be convinced to come with us, so it was worth a shot,” Charles said. “It became difficult to read him after he knew I was a telepath.”

Erik frowned. “Why?”

“ _Although I love to kiss my little hula miss_ ,” Charles started to sing, “ _I never get the chance. I want to hold her tight, all through the night, but all she wants to do is dance_.” He didn't project the frames of the film into Erik's mind, at least sparing him that much.

“He foiled you with a song,” Erik said, not at all impressed.

“An Elvis Presley song,” Charles elaborated, “One that Raven was rather fond of when she first heard it, thus it became lodged in my mind easily. Very distracting.”

“That would have also been a good sign for us to leave,” Erik said.

Charles shrugged. “I wanted to see how things played out.”

The knuckles on Erik's hands were white from how tight he gripped the steering wheel. It was the only manifest sign of his continued irritation, and Charles was impressed that no parts of the vehicle were being compressed or bent out of their usual shape. “Next time, don't.”

“We'll see,” Charles said.

–

The next morning Charles woke to find Erik's bed empty and the door to the bathroom closed, yellow light spilling out of the crack at the bottom. This wasn't anything unusual until half an hour, then an hour, then more, passed and Erik didn't emerge. Charles had dozed off again, but when he saw that the time had crept well towards mid-morning he got out of bed. He tried the doorknob, found it locked, and then knocked. “Erik?”

“Go away!”

Charles frowned. “Are you feeling ill?”

“No!”

“At least come out.”

“I can't,” Erik said, curt.

“What's wrong?” Charles asked, brows furrowed in concern. He lifted a hand to his head, though he didn't read Erik's mind – not yet – just projected a thought. _I'll help you, whatever it is._

“You can't help me,” Erik said. “And under no circumstances are you allowed into my head right now.”

“Do I need to get you to hospital?”

“No.”

“Then what do you need?”

There was silence; Charles assumed Erik was considering his options. “A time machine. That fucking mutant kid we saw yesterday.”

“What does the boy from yesterday have to do with this?” Charles asked, flummoxed.

At long last, the door to the bathroom opened.

Erik stepped out. The whole seventy-five centimetres of him. Charles stared.

“You're so … adorable.”

“I am _not_ adorable!” Erik snarled.

Charles placed his hand over his mouth and bit down on his index finger in a vain attempt to keep from laughing. He wanted to be sensitive to Erik's pride, but it was difficult, even for him, especially since he had a tiny leather jacket and his hands. Erik went back back into the bathroom and slammed the door shut.

“Erik, I'm sorry,” Charles said, calming himself.

“Fuck you,” Erik returned.

“Come back out. I promise not to laugh. We will have to leave eventually.”

“I don't believe you,” Erik said, “About the laughing. But you're right. We need to leave, track down that sneaky bastard, and make him change me back to normal.”

“When did this happen, anyway?” Charles asked, since the last he saw Erik no felt had been involved. “Your change.”

Erik opened the door again, looking suspiciously at Charles. This time Charles managed to keep from laughing, but he still smiled despite his best effort. For a moment it seemed like Erik might retreat again, but instead walked past Charles and flicked the metal latches of Charles' suitcase open. “Pack. I'll tell you in the car,” Erik said.

Charles complied and soon they had checked out of the hotel. Erik liked driving more than Charles, but there would be too many questions involved if they were pulled over and there was a puppet behind the wheel, so he reluctantly allowed Charles to start the car the conventional way and get them on the road. “Explanation time.”

Erik didn't answer immediately. He was facing away from Charles, looking out the window, and though he wasn't sulking, exactly, it was the closest Charles had seen him to doing so in the time they had so far known each other. It was fortunate that he was driving, since it made Charles want to give Erik a hug, and the chances of _that_ going over well were extremely low.

“I went for a walk,” Erik at last began. “After leaving you at the bar. Couldn't sleep, so it was a way to pass time. I ran into that kid again – can't have been coincidental. We had … more words. Then the next thing I knew he did something, and I. _I looked like this_. It was disorienting, otherwise I would have throttled him right there. Instead he got an advanced start. I tried to chase him down, but – how do you run all the time when your legs are so _short_?”

Charles knew the last was a question directed towards him. He spared Erik a glance, then had to swerve into the other lane to narrowly avoid hitting a car in front of them. “I'm more than twice your size now.”

“Which is fucking wrong,” Erik grumbled. “I eventually came back to the hotel room. You were asleep at that point. You know the rest.”

–

It didn't take them too long to get back to the café where they had met Eugene the previous day. Charles asked around while Erik skulked in the car, but no one there was able to give him anything useful. Eventually Charles found him in a phone directory after that, but the number had been disconnected; he got an address, but only to find out that he had moved out well over a month ago. Erik was becoming quickly frustrated with the lack of progress; Charles knew that Erik had hunted Shaw over the world, so Erik assumed it should have been a simple matter to find one kid.

However, neither of them were very familiar with this area – Chicago – and for all they knew he could have left for elsewhere after changing Erik into a puppet (it would be a wise decision). Eventually, Charles suggested, “If we go back to the CIA facility I could potentially find him again through Cerebro.”

“I do _not_ want anyone else to see me like this,” Erik said.

“It may be unavoidable.” Charles frowned. “I'm also still concerned for your general well-being while you're like this.”

“Obviously you should be, since I am made of fucking fabric.”

“Well, yes, that, and what it means for your basic physiological needs. You know, food, water, sleeping.”

“I haven't felt hungry, thirsty, or sleepy,” Erik said shortly. “How would that even work? I feel like I'm stuffed. Literally.” Charles glanced at him; Erik demonstrated the point by poking his clothed forearm. “I should not be cushioned.”

Charles bit the inside of his cheek to try to keep his expression impassive. “In any event, I think we have to go back at least for now. We can be discreet.”

“There is no fucking way people are not going to notice a walking, talking two and a half-foot version of me.”

“Telepath, remember?”

–

Charles contacted Moira, who got them on a return flight almost immediately. On the plane, Charles attracted some odd looks when he had two seats to himself, the one next to him remaining empty, though he gently pushed away anyone's attention before they noticed that it was, in fact, occupied by a puppet. Erik had relaxed a fraction once he realised that Charles was going to keep him invisible to prying eyes and that he didn't have to do anything ridiculous like being shoved into storage.

“Thanks,” Erik muttered.

_You're welcome._

The flight was spent in silence by necessity, and when they had landed Charles rented a car. As they drove back to the research facility they had an argument over the merits of letting Hank examine Erik just in case. Eventually, Charles convinced Erik to comply, if only because Erik didn't have much more understanding of the situation either. Charles continued to keep Erik invisible and avoided Moira for now so they could go direct to Hank's lab.

“Hank, could I borrow you for a moment?” Charles asked without preamble, though Hank wasn't alone. “Hello, Raven.”

“Hey, Charles.” Raven gave him an inquisitive look. “I didn't know you were coming back today.”

“Things didn't go quite as planned,” Charles said.

“Where's Erik?”

“Around, somewhere,” Charles said evasively. He knew he was being too vague and hasty. It didn't escape Raven's notice, but he didn't want to explain right then and he could feel Erik's growing impatience. “We'll talk later. I really need to discuss something with Hank.”

“Of course. What is it?”

Charles glanced at Raven. “Alone would be best.”

Rolling her eyes, Raven stood from where she had been seated. “I expect a full explanation.”

“I'll find you,” Charles promised. He waited until he was sure she had actually departed and was sufficiently far away before he dropped the mental protection for Erik. This drew a surprised sound and a double take from Hank, since suddenly there was a puppet with them. “We have a problem.”

“The problem being you feel the need to hide a puppet that kind-of looks like Erik?” Hank hazarded.

“It is me, moron,” Erik said. Hank jumped, but didn't knock anything over.

Charles sighed. “Erik, what happened isn't exactly obvious.”

–

It didn't take long to explain Erik's current condition to Hank. Erik then allowed Hank to begin looking him over, though he was obviously far from happy about it, and random metal objects kept bending themselves into unpleasant shapes.

“This is amazing,” Hank said, a note of genuine, enthused curiosity in his tone, after he examined Erik. “From what I can tell you're made _entirely_ of felt.”

“I could tell you that much,” Erik said, directed to Charles, meaning _I told you this was a waste of time_. “Don't touch my nose!” he shouted, when Hank did.

“Sorry,” Hank said, sheepish. “It's just – I've never even thought something like this would be possible.”

Erik's puppet eyebrows drew together in a scowl. Charles tried very hard not to smile, since it was blatantly apparent that Erik's responses were more volatile than normal. “Does everything seem to be all right with Erik, though? Relatively speaking.”

“It's strange, since he seems to be a completely animate inanimate object. So yes? I mean, I could try to run some tests– ”

“You are _not_ doing further tests on me!” Erik said sharply.

“I'm not even sure where to begin,” Hank admitted. “I can't take a blood sample since I'm fairly certain he's filled with foam –”

“Stop saying things I already know,” Erik interrupted again, giving Charles a sideways glance. “Are you satisfied?”

“Yes, I suppose. Hank, do you think it's possible for me to use Cerebro to track one mutant?” Charles asked.

“It's certainly feasible. I can try adjusting some of the calibrations to control the area you can reach, to help you narrow your focus, though most of it will be dependent on you,” Hank said, getting on a roll. It really was quite interesting, since they only had so much time thus far to see what Charles could do with Cerebro. “You might also need to be careful so you don't overload your intended target. If nothing else this will be very informative.”

“Then we should –” Charles started to say, but he had been too deep in thought to notice that Moira was approaching them until she was there. They all turned to look at her.

“Hey, I was – what's with the puppet?”

“It's Erik,” Hank blurted out, before either Charles or Erik could stop him. Moira burst into hysterics. Charles tried to keep Erik from killing everyone.

–

There were a few minutes of chaos, and Hank was going to need new lab equipment, but soon Moira had herself back under control and Hank was still breathing. Erik was nothing short of livid. “Wipe her mind, Charles. Erase her memory. If you don't already know how to do that, learn. _Now_.”

Charles ran a hand through his hair. “Erik, that's taking it a step too far for this.”

Erik was perched on a stool, arms folded across his chest. “No, it's definitely within reason.”

“I'm not going to.”

“Traitor.”

“You don't look half bad,” Moira said, still grinning. “It'll definitely make you more approachable to the younger kids.”

“I am going to kill you,” Erik said, glowering.

“You might want to rethink making that declaration in the middle of a CIA facility,” Moira said.

“Like anyone here could really stop me from –”

“Cerebro time,” Charles interjected, since he knew this conversation would only continue to degenerate. “Moira, could you see how Raven and the others are doing? Please.”

There was a moment of hesitation, a brief thought of finding a camera, but ultimately Moira nodded. Charles breathed out a sigh of relief. Erik glared at him.

“It could be worse,” Charles said.

“How, Charles? How could this be worse? Parts of my body are _removable_.”

Charles thought about it. He came up with two reasons. “Your powers haven't been impeded. You're alive.”

“Let's just go.”

–

This time the experience with Cerebro felt more taxing. Thus far he hadn't had to do anything precise – he had to reach out and touch as many minds as he could, and while he got fragments of thoughts and pieces of lives there wasn't lingering on any one, much less trying to pinpoint a specific person. Hank adjusted the settings to limit the range to the United States; it helped a little.

Charles lost track of time, lost track of himself. There was an element of exhilaration in the beginning that felt like he was a wave crashing over rocks, shattering and gathering back together. Indelicate at first, Charles reordered himself each time, sifting through the thousands of minds that were open to him, hanging on to Hank's advisory as he did. Charles wished he had more than the brief experience the day before to go on. Nevertheless, he wasn't the sort to consider anything impossible, and he felt like he might be getting better at it, if he just pushed himself further – and there!

“ _–it off_! Turn the goddamn thing off!”

“It is off!” Hank said, moving in front of Charles. “Charles, are you okay?”

Charles wanted to say that he was, that the last result was the one they needed. What came out of his mouth, though, was an incomprehensible: “Nngh.” He tried to take a step forward, and the world almost reoriented itself until it came to a stop with a quick jerk at his waist and his wrist. Then Hank was helping him off the slightly raised platform and to a seat on the floor, and Erik was at his side.

“I'm ... super groovy,” Charles mumbled.

“Go get Raven,” Erik snapped. Hank went without question.

“You are too, even composed of felt,” Charles continued.

“Shut up and keep still.”

“Found him. We should go.”

“I said shut up.”

Ignoring Erik, Charles tried to get up to prove he could, but motor functions still seemed to be cross-wired in his brain and he ended up resting a hand on Erik's head. “I also said keep still,” Erik said, but didn't make Charles move his hand until Hank was returning with Raven.

“Oh my god, you and Moira weren't joking,” Raven said, looking at Erik, then at Hank. Though that was quickly pushed out of mind as she knelt beside Charles, concern superseding and quashing bubbling amusement. “You look like shit,” she said.

“Thanks,” Charles said. “You're all making a fuss. Wasn't that long.”

“It's past midnight now,” Erik said.

“That's late.”

“We're getting you to a room so you can rest,” Raven declared. “Hank, help me?”

Hank, Raven, and Erik got Charles moving through some cooperative effort, since Erik could at least fling doors open and seemed to be pointedly ignoring anyone else they passed. Once Charles was in a bed, Hank went back to Cerebro while Raven and Erik both stayed. He was going to try to reassure them both, but the words were drowned in a yawn, an within minutes of his head hitting the pillow sleep seemed like an irresistible idea.

–

Charles wasn't sure how much time had passed when he finally awoke. Raven wasn't there, but Erik still was. “At least that was a success,” Charles said, the words hoarse to match the gummy, dry feeling in his mouth.

Erik looked over at him and frowned. “That's one way of putting it.”

“We got the coordinate, right?” Charles asked.

“Yes.”

“So, see. Success.” It opened up further possibilities. “Maybe I could use Cerebro to find Shaw,” Charles mused.

“No,” Erik said flatly. “We have other ways of finding him.”

Charles blinked. He assumed Erik would be in favour of the idea. “This could be faster.”

“It's not a risk you should take.” There was a warning note in Erik's tone that it wasn't a matter up for discussion. Charles persisted anyway.

“I don't think it's that bad,” he said.

Erik stared at him, lips compressed in a thin line – literally. “You've been asleep eighteen hours.”

“Oh.” Then, Charles said, “You should have woken me sooner.”

“You needed the rest. Hank said it was something to do with giving your brain a chance to recover.”

“This means you've been stuck being a puppet longer than strictly necessary,” Charles said, feeling guilty.

Erik sighed, which was strange since from what Charles could tell Erik didn't really need to breathe in his current form. “It's not like you would have been of any help as out of it as you were,” he said. “Besides, Raven's been keeping the others from disturbing you, so I've been hiding out here, in case you needed anything.”

Charles felt warmed inside, and his heart did a funny kind of flutter. He was always grateful times past when Raven looked after him on the occasions he was sick; it was on the whole rare for anyone else to do anything like that, though, and it meant all the more that it was Erik. “Thank you,” he said, expression softened in a smile. He took Erik's hand and squeezed gently, the stubby, plushy fingers about the polar opposite of what would be normal.

Erik tolerated this, but then said in warning, “Try to hug me, and it will be the last thing you do. Which would be a shame now that you're functional again.” Charles laughed.

Soon, Raven returned and gave him the hug he didn't get from Erik, then ducked back out to get food for Charles while he got dressed.

–

After Charles was fed and hydrated, Erik and Raven brought him up to speed. It turned out that Moira and Levene had been sent to retrieve Eugene and had been successful, since they had gone in knowing what to expect. For now, he was being held in an improvised a holding area within the facility, though it had initially proved a complicated matter to keep him there until they discovered Darwin was immune to being changed into something else and Raven could simply revert herself back.

“He still won't change me back, and they won't let me try to convince him unobserved,” Erik grumbled.

“It may have helped if your first words to him weren't 'You are going to change me back, or I am going to use every metal object in this building to make you wish you were dead',” Raven said, changing her voice into Erik's when she quoted him, which made Erik frown and Charles smile. “Then you tried to strangle him with one of the floor lamps and he changed it into confetti.”

“You neglected to mention all of this,” Charles said, glancing askance at Erik.

Erik shrugged. “That's because if you knew he was already here, you would have rushed off before you ate anything.”

“You're really protective for being all –” Raven gestured at Erik's puppet shape “– short.”

“I'm sure Erik's taller than the average puppet,” Charles said.

“Not. Helping,” Erik said, glaring at Charles, then Raven when she laughed. “Can you force him to change me back?” he asked.

“I would rather like to see if he can be persuaded first,” Charles said. “I feel perfectly fine, so we can go now.”

–

Erik seemed to have progressed past self-conscious about being a puppet to menacing if anyone smirked in his direction, since when one of the agents they passed did that he ended up with a cracked rib

This didn't mean everyone was taking the hint, though, since Sean ambushed them before they had made it the distance from Charles' room to where Eugene was kept.

“Smile!” Sean said. There was a flash of light, and then he took off running. “I got it!” Charles heard him yell in triumph. Angel peered around the corner and caught the clunky, plastic box camera as Sean threw it to her and further out of Erik's reach.

Charles placed a hand on Erik's shoulder as a heavy statue uprooted itself. “Erik, don't. They mean no harm, and we have more important things to attend to.”

The statue fell back to the ground. “There will be consequences.”

“We'll discuss it later.”

–

The “improvised holding area” turned out to be a spare room that had been cleared out except for a couch and some magazines. There were agents stationed outside the doors and Charles sent them away; Alex and Darwin were inside. Charles discovered a lower level of hostility than he was expecting, but it was still evident that Eugene was very much displeased with being kept against his will. They entered.

Eugene glanced up, casting an amused though weary look at Erik. This time Eugene's surface thoughts turned into Audrey Hepburn's rendition of “Moon River”. It was a little impressive how easily he seemed to function while occupying his mind with something entirely different. “Come to join the party?” he asked.

“We came to have a word with you,” Charles said. “Darwin, Alex, Raven, we should be fine.”

Darwin clapped Alex on the shoulder and they both stood. “Yell if you need anything,” he said.

Raven hesitated a moment longer, but then followed them out with a slight nod to Charles at the conclusion of their non-verbal conversation. Charles knew she would be waiting right outside, as would Alex and Darwin, but there at least weren't any glass windows in this room.

“You guys are very persistent,” Eugene said, leaning back in his chair.

“You turned me into a fucking puppet!” Erik exclaimed, before Charles could try to be at all diplomatic. “Of course we are.”

Charles sighed, moving so he was standing in front of the boy. Eugene smirked, gaze upon Erik. “I thought changing your insides to something squishy and soft might improve your general demeanour. I guess not.”

“Change him back and you'll be free to go,” Charles said, giving one chance.

Eugene looked up at Charles. “But he's so _cute_ like this, don't you agree?”

“You better fucking not,” Erik said. “This is getting us nowhere.”

“It's really not,” Eugene said, then he lunged at Charles.

Before Eugene could even touch him, Erik pulled a metal structural beam out of the wall and slammed Eugene back against the surface. The door to the room flew open, but Charles simply gave them a hasty command to stay back. Twisting his hand, Eugene's fingertips brushed the metal and they changed into a chain of flowers that he broke through easily.

However, the even the slightest delay was enough for Charles to react and enter Eugene's mind. _Enough._ He held him frozen in place. _You will change Erik back **now** , or I will **make** you._ Charles disliked going that far, but leaving Erik as a puppet was untenable. _And then you will spend the rest of your life believing that you are a pigeon. A very dim pigeon._

Charles gave enough leeway to hear Eugene's responses, but nothing more. _You can do that?_

_I could make you start cooing right now as a partial demonstration. I wished to be civilised about it and give you the chance to do the right thing, first._

_All right, all right. Jesus Christ, I thought he was the scary one._

_I don't intend to frighten you. I'm simply informing you of the consequences._

_That's what makes it terrifying._

Charles didn't leave Eugene's mind entirely to make sure he didn't try anything. “Erik, go over to him.”

Erik approached at Charles' word. Eugene touched Erik's forehead, changing him back to normal.

_Go to sleep. You'll wake in a hotel near the café we met initially. Remember this for the next time you feel the need to transmutate another, living being._

Charles released his hold as Eugene collapsed to the floor, snoring softly in the pile of flowers he had made. He glanced over at Erik, who was examining himself with a level of joyful relief that he drew Charles into a hug once he had made sure everything was properly back to normal. Charles wrapped his arms around Erik in return, sending a word of gratitude to Raven as she shoved Alex and Darwin back out of the room and pulled the door shut.

–

By the next evening everything was relatively settled. Sean and Angel had done the smart thing, having the photo they took developed multiple times and denying the existence of any of the copies, though Charles had one safely tucked away in the bottom of his luggage. Erik and Charles both had told the children that there would be no discussion of the past few days, which meant that they talked about it constantly when Erik wasn't around. Charles had found out that Raven and Sean with Moira's help had acquired a large quantity of felt and massacred a couch cushion. He was trying to keep himself as uninformed as possible on that front.

Charles and Erik now relaxed over Martinis and a game of chess. His legs were stretched out beneath the table, one pressing against Erik's, because he could. “There are still a few more stops we have to make.”

“We can get back on the road tomorrow. And from now on, if you sense that we've found someone who would waste any of our time, _we leave_.”

“Fair enough,” Charles said, but he couldn't leave well enough alone, and added, “At least there are far worse things you could have been changed into.”

Erik stood, walking around the table and towering over Charles with undisguised satisfaction. Charles looked up at him, thoroughly amused. “I thought we had agreed to not talk about the whole débâcle,” he said, a menacing edge to his tone.

“We had the children agree to not talk about it,” Charles said, smiling and rising from his seat. “Nothing about us. Besides, he won't be doing anything like that again.”

“How are you so sure?”

Charles sought out one of Erik's hands, enjoying the way long, calloused fingers entwined with his. “I gave him a very clear warning.”

“Is that a fact.”

“He called me scary,” Charles said, bemused.

Erik raised an eyebrow. “What did you tell him?”

“That I would make him believe he was a pigeon for the rest of his life.”

Erik wrapped his arm around Charles' waist. “Can you do that?”

“I don't really know for sure,” Charles admitted. “It seems feasible, except I doubt it would be that long-term.”

Erik laughed. Charles stood on his toes, pressing his lips to Erik's. He was completely glad that everything was back to normal, because he didn't think he would have ever been comfortable kissing a puppet, sharing the thought with Erik.

_I didn't need to know that._

_Distract me._ And Erik did.

**Author's Note:**

> I wanted to add a thank you for all the lovely feedback people have left to things I've written. You are all fantastic.


End file.
